he was tired

not from lack
of adequate
hours of
tumultuous sleep
(though that
happened too)
he could not
pinpoint the exact
reason for his
perpetual state
of permanent
exhaustion and
he was almost
as unsure how
to combat his
perplexing case
of fatigue
he looked for
cures, staring
at the end of
his empty
bottle after

he had already

finished two as
if that could
keep him awake
but the buzz
never lasted long
enough
he wondered
where he could
find rest as he
fell into the arms
of women he
never loved in
beds he never
sleeps in
he hides his
lack of sleep
in his veins in
the same way
he holds nicotine
in his lungs
drugs lace his
thoughts as he
traverses miles
of empty roads

throughout his
mind as he
grows more
anxious for rest
he finds bedrooms
but why does
bedtime never
come?
he wandered with
the purpose of
being found,
but he was still
lost with no
ambition
one evening he
was too exhausted
to stay awake
so he finally fell
into a slumber so
deep that only an
insomniatic soul
could understand
why he intended
to never wake up